TRP: Hansel, Marion, Mishka, and Yelizavetha (Yelizavetha)
Coyote: Directly after the previous Bear Cubs RP. Mishka bundled up and went to meet Marion in the morning. She'd know where the Lady of the Woods was, hopefully, and if not... well, maybe he ought to... fucking talk to her anyway, or... something. Once he reached the house, he rapped on the door. Felt awkward doing it. Was he supposed to knock? Izzy: Marion looked up from making breakfast. People kept knocking on her goddamn door. Maybe Lucienne and Jonn were back -- or it was Mishka. If it was someone else come to bother her, she swore to Silvanus. "It's unlocked," she called. Coyote: Mishka wiped his feet and stepped in. Marion was making breakfast, and the house smelled lovely. It put Mishka on-guard. He felt exhausted, and he was sure it showed. He kept waking up in the middle of the night from nightmares about Hansel bleeding to death next to him in bed. He kept having to check and make sure Hansel was still warm, still had a pulse. Eventually, he’d managed to catch a couple hours of sleep by pressing his ear to Hansel’s chest and falling asleep while listening to Hansel’s heartbeat. He was sure he looked like shit. He’d tried to cover it, but oh well. It was what it was. “So,” Mishka said, after a long moment. He leaned against the wall. “Hansel, ah, had a run-in with a bear. Would y’mind pointing me towards the nearest healer? Hans said something about a lady in a forest.” Izzy: She let him stand there quietly as long as he wanted. Didn't look like he'd slept well. She wondered if the little cabin Hansel had told her about was really in good enough shape to overnight in, yet -- surely the two of them realized they were welcome to stay here, by now, for as long as they wanted, even if Mishka always seemed vaguely uncomfortable about it. It had to be better than being exposed to the elements, surely. Then she turned abruptly, eyes widening. "A bear." A fucking bear? They should be hibernating -- she bet it was those damn Rogers boys, interfering with the natural order of things, waking up things they weren't prepared to deal with, leaving their messes for other people to clean up. Not the point right now, though. She'd overcharge them for milk and cheese later. "The Lady of the Wood, yes. Out past the lake, to the north -- you head towards the mountains 'til you break into the pine forest, then follow the stream 'til you see blue flowers. They're always in bloom. Hansel should be able to ..." She trailed off. Hansel should be able to find her easy, as much as he'd wandered the wilds. "Is he all right?" Coyote: Mishka bit his tongue. What was her game? Hansel told him stories about his childhood; he told Mishka about how he was terrified of his stepfather, and his mother simply ignored him in favor of his brother. Threw a fit when his poor younger brother disappeared one day, then let Hansel vanish all night in a storm without blinking an eye. They’d treated his husband like a fucking beast of burden. Only kept him around because he was useful. When Mishka was little, his own mother used to do that. She was cold and detached and distant. Didn’t give a shit about him. She tried to marry him off the instant he was old enough. Yet… the moment people were around, she was suddenly the perfect, loving mother. It was a shitty thing to do to a child. He sort’ve hated Zoya, even now, twenty years since the last time he’d seen her. At first, Mishka thought Marion was the same way. Didn’t give a shit about Hansel, just wanted to look good. Cold and detached his entire childhood, then suddenly she was warm and loving and caring now that they had company. And Hansel-- desperate for affection-- was fucking falling for it. It made Mishka grind his teeth. But looking at her now, he wondered, briefly-- for the first time-- if her pretending to be concerned about Hansel was just… her being concerned about Hansel. Mishka rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. Izzy: She waited for him to say something. He didn't, just -- kept looking uncomfortable. There were probably several things that could mean, but she had the sudden thought of how oddly he'd said a run-in with a bear -- Mishka was plain odd, at times, and she'd started to find it really endearing, but she also wondered if she would be able to tell when he was lying, or covering something up. If it was worse than a run-in. Or if there was no fucking bear, because it was winter and the bears were hibernating, and Hansel had instead had a run-in with someone from the town. "Leigh can find the Lady just as well," she said, turning her back to what she'd been doing and grabbing a towel to quickly clean off her hands. "Is Hansel at your cabin? They can meet us." She started to move past Mishka to grab her winter cloak. Coyote: “He’s at the cabin, yes. Sleeping, still.” Mishka followed her out. It was fucking endearing, how all concerned she was getting about Hansel, grabbing her coat, coming to show him in the way, suggesting Leigh would want to follow them too. Still, the open affection made him tense up and want to pull away. He didn’t know what to do with it. They stepped outside into the cold winter air. He set a fast pace down the path. “There were some trappers, apparently, in the woods,” Mishka said. “Woke a grizzly up, fucked themselves over. Hans, being Hans, decided to step in. Fuckers left him to fight the bear alone-- suppose they thought it’d kill him. Well, naturally, Hansel being the unstoppable war god that he is, he actually won instead. Then he dragged himself back home. I stitched him up, disinfected the wounds, bandaged him. He’s… stable. Not dying, but-- fucked up, yeah.” He paused a moment, there, then said, “Ah, you should probably know. I was a bit peeved they, uh, left my wonderful perfect husband to get mauled to death. So. I sort’ve, ah, cut''' up the bear body, dragged it to their house, and left pieces of it everywhere. Figured it’d freak them out, I suppose. Anyway, I-- thought you ought to know. In case people in town start talking about it.” He cleared his throat. '''Izzy: "Oh." She touched his arm lightly to redirect him towards the barn, where she briefly called out to tell Leigh what was going on and not to worry, then went on, "Well, that's good." It was the Rogers' work, then. Damn fools. "I was just going to sell them spoiled milk." Cutting up a bear and leaving pieces of it around their home. It was grisly, but she supposed he was a pirate, apparently, or had been. "They'll likely think it was Hansel," she thought aloud, "but I imagine they'll be too afraid to do anything about it." Her son fought a bear. And won. Unstoppable war god, hm. Coyote: “Mm, that’s my concern— that they’ll think it was Hansel, yeah.” God, Mishka fucked this up. What if they got scared of Hansel? What if they came to the house or the cabin in the middle of the night while Mishka was gone and took his husband and strung him up, just like Hansel’s father? And then it would be Mishka’s fucking fault, and Marion and Leigh and Hansel would be dead, this was how he’d do it, this was how he’d fuck it up— Maybe he ought to stay here, stay with Hansel, make sure nothing went wrong, make sure nobody touched him— Izzy: "I suppose I'll just have to tell them it was me, instead," she said mildly. "Wild woman, you know. They'll believe it." He looked a bit like he might be panicking, internally -- she thought maybe she should distract him. She was also being completely, entirely serious. Coyote: That caught him off-guard. “That isn’t better, woman. Then they’ll just string you up instead. And you can’t defend yourself—“ Mishka made himself stop. Okay, he figured. So. She did care about Hansel. That was... that was sweet. That was good. Also, he supposed he was concerned about her, god damn it. Izzy: "String ..." She frowned. There was an icy pit in her stomach. "No one is stringing anyone up." Maybe that was just something that he said. A saying from Skyport. Or -- Alabaster, or wherever he was from. "The important thing is plausible deniability over it being Hansel or you," she said carefully. "Leigh and I will be fine. Jonn and Lucienne will be fine." She hoped that made her point. Coyote: “Yeah. Yeah, sorry, I just—“ Mishka flicked his fingers. “You’re right, you’re right. Just... paranoid.” His eyes shifted back to her, then away again. Then, suddenly, he said, “A man told me they murdered Hansel’s father for getting you pregnant. That’s all, just fucking getting you pregnant. What if they find a reason to kill Hansel too?” Mishka kept doing calculations in his head. Hansel could take down ten men on his own, full strength. But it didn’t matter how many men Hansel took with him, because of they killed Hansel, Hansel would still be dead either way. Izzy: She started to reassure him -- I understand, it's all right; I'm paranoid, too -- but didn't get any of it out before he spoke again. Then she froze, staring at him. Her hands went to fists in her cloak. There were -- many things she could say. Who told you that, and trying to lie, maybe. Or Who told you that, and telling the truth, but the truth was painful, and she preferred to not talk about it, and not think about it. Or Did they tell Hansel, too? She had been so careful, so careful, so hard on him, desperate to keep him from ever giving them a reason. Maybe it had kept him alive, but Yehuda had never given anyone a reason to harm him, either, and it hadn't saved him. Hansel had more human blood, and he'd been a child, and he'd been fearful and kind and well-behaved -- some combination of those things, she assumed, had prevented catastrophe. What she said, quietly, after a moment, was, "They'll find reasons if they want them," which was not, she realized, a particularly comforting sentiment, so she added, "Hansel is strong. And he's not alone. Leigh will tell everyone about his brother getting injured fighting off a bear alone, shame the Rogers boys into siding with us. I'll confront them, tell them Jonn and I left the bear corpse as a reminder to not fuck with my family. Lucienne will talk about you nursing Hansel back to health, make them think you're harmless. We'll protect you." She started walking again. "I know what I'm doing." Coyote: Mishka was surprised, again. “You don’t need to protect me,” he said. He forcefully made himself relax, forced himself to settle down. Everything was fine. Marion was a charming and clever peasant woman. He wasn’t sure why he kept having such weird fucking reactions to her. “That’s smart,” he finally said. He wasn’t used to working as a unit. He was used to just doing things himself, or with Hansel. “You’re wasted in this town, y’know.” Izzy: "Hm, well." She a bit inclined to agree, but it made it worth it, staying here, that Hansel had come back. If she'd sold the farm and gone somewhere else with Leigh, and Hansel had come home and she hadn't been here -- if he had just been a traveling half-orc stopping in Shepherd Hills -- and the state he'd been in when he'd arrived, all vacant and distressed ... Marion didn't get the impression that Mishka was the type of person to worry about himself. About Hansel, yes, clearly. Possibly about her, apparently (that isn't better, you can't defend yourself), and maybe Hansel's kids, and Leigh, if only by association with Hansel. But if she told him yes, I do need to protect you, I don't care if you're the terror of the whatever sea, you can't fight off an entire town alone if they get hungry to hang the outsiders, she didn't think he would take her very seriously, so she didn't say that. Coyote: She didn’t argue, which Mishka immediately decided meant he was right, because he was always right. Good. “Hey.” Mishka hesitated. “Ah... what was Hansel’s father’s name?” Izzy: She didn't answer straight away. "The man who told you they killed him." She paused, and just asked, flat-out: "Was Hansel there? Does he know?" Coyote: “A man attacked Hansel,” Mishka said shortly. “Hansel was sitting outside the cabin, waiting for me to come back, and I suppose someone saw him and thought it was a good opportunity to finish him off. I thought--” Mishka bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. The idea of someone hurting Hansel while he was helpless, while Hansel was too weak to defend himself, made him burn with rage. “Anyway,” Mishka said through his teeth. “Hansel killed him. But the man said something about… Hansel’s father… to taunt him, I suppose. He said that… when they lynched his father, he got to tie the noose. Hansel was there, yeah. He heard.” The he added, “I hid the body in a tree. High up.” He snapped his fingers. “I doubt it’ll be found, but once we have time, I’ll go up and retrieve it, let the animals have it, make it look like a bear attack.” Izzy: "Hm." Marion tried to decide how to handle this. She kept walking, watching her feet carefully. "Hm." Well, the good thing was that Hansel had defended himself. That he was safe. A dead man could be easier or harder to deal with than one who was alive -- there was too good a chance people would take his side, if he'd survived, if he spread word that Hansel had attacked him before Marion could get ahead of it. Feeding the body to animals was a good idea. That trident Hansel carried -- she expected it would leave distinctive wounds, but wolves or bears and vultures and foxes would hide them. Whoever it was -- he would just disappear until the thaw, and when summer came and someone found the bones, they'd remember him. Mystery solved. No one would think of the Grangers. (Who had tied the noose? Was it just morbid bragging to make Hansel angry, or -- was it fucking Sloan? Fucking Sloan. No great loss, there.) Yes, that Hansel was safe was more important than whatever she had to say to him, now. . "Good thinking," she said, a bit absently. "Disposing of the body. You know, I thought about feeding Hansel's stepfather to wolves, once." She wouldn't say that to Hansel or Leigh, but somehow it didn't seem odd to comment on it to Mishka. She had to say his name aloud. She'd have to whether it was to Mishka now or to Hansel, later, but her throat wanted to close up around it, not do that to herself again. She'd only just managed to make herself stop thinking about him since she'd spoken to Goro. Digging it up again -- digging him up -- it was just -- Is Hansel angry with me? she wanted to ask, to test whether she could put it off, but maybe it would be better for her to leave him to Mishka, either way, let his husband take care of him. She hadn't done that good of a job of it, when it had been her turn. "Yehuda," she said finally. "Yehuda Novad. His family were traders, travelers. Largely outcasts. He was quiet. And kind. And yes, they killed him -- not even because I was pregnant, just because I was with him." She hadn't known yet, then, known she'd had anything left of him. "They didn't kill me. Do you understand what I mean -- about protecting you? Both of you?" She paused. "I don't want you to do anything that would put you in danger." Coyote: “Understand what you mean?” Mishka said, narrowing his eyes. He chewed the inside of his mouth, again. Shifted his eyes back to her. “Ah— look, I appreciate—“ Cut off into silence. “It’s good of you— hm.” More silence. “No, I don’t think I do understand, no. I can just disappear. No one can touch me.” Izzy: "It runs out, doesn't it?" she asked. "The magic." She thought of Leigh's sparks, how useless they were in the grand scheme of things. "And Hansel will wear out, eventually, if he tries to fight all of them. Listen to me -- if you incite a mob, the mob will win. You could take Hansel and disappear, but do you think he wouldn't come back? Try to protect Leigh, and me?" She shook her head and took a breath. "So we can't fight them. We talk, instead, and we lie and mislead, and we manipulate them out of thinking they're united in ever having wanted to fight at all. And they'll listen to me talk. Not you and Hansel, not Goro, not Roddy, but me and Leigh, and Lucienne and Jonn. You don't need to do anything. We'll keep them from touching you." Coyote: It set his teeth on edge, the idea of You don’t need to do anything. We’ll keep them from touching you. Made him feel small, somehow. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. He wanted to say: I don’t need your fucking help. But he stopped himself from saying that, because it was irrational, snapping at his woman for offering to help him. Why was he so uncomfortable with this? Why did it bother him someone was extending their hand? (What if they took it back later? What if they couldn’t be trusted? What if he needed help and didn’t get it, later, because he’d gotten complacent and stopped relying on himself, or— or—) Mishka blew out a breath. Maybe he could just try this, for now. He was already getting pretty close to the Graverunners. He already relied on Hansel, and he already accepted help from Goro, and he already took help from the others, too. Maybe he could just... calm down, and let this woman do her thing, and see if it worked out. He swallowed. Yeah. Calm. Quiet. Good. “Okay,” Mishka said. He took her hand, briefly, and then let it go and kept walking. “Thank you,” Mishka said. Izzy: Marion nodded. He didn't seem to ... like the fact that she was trying to help. Didn't want to hear about a situation where his magic and Hansel's strength failed them, maybe, and she couldn't blame him for it, but Yehuda and his family had hardly been powerless, hardly been pacifists. She had seen strong people be overwhelmed by numbers, before; she'd fought and struggled against her father holding her back as the rope had gone around Yehuda's neck. She wasn't doing that again. She'd just change the rules. Refuse to fight a mob on its terms. Mishka was a smart boy -- well, he was a grown man, he was an elf who was probably two or three times her age -- regardless -- she expected he could understand that, even if he didn't like it. And the thank you was nice. Unexpected. They kept walking along the path, coming to the pine forest, and the stream, and she kept her eyes sharp for the blue flowers -- they grew on vines that wrapped 'round the trees, and the ones in bloom pointed towards the Lady's home. It was always the same place, but it was as if it moved around, somehow -- she couldn't explain it. Sometimes it seemed to be further away than other times, or perhaps the flowers just led them in circles when the Lady wasn't in the mood for company, but it only took a few minutes, this time. . Then they crested a ridge and saw the massive windfall -- ancient, seemingly, magnitudes larger than any of the trees still standing in the forest -- still alive somehow despite having fallen, covered in verdant green moss and vines despite the winter, dotted with mushrooms. Light shone through the round window in the door, signalling that the Lady was home, so Marion carefully made her way down the ridge, hesitating a moment before she knocked. There was sound from inside, rustling and clattering. Then the door jerked open a crack and the Lady of the Wood glared out at them. She was a druid, and an elf, so gods alone knew how old she really was, because she'd looked young for as long as anyone in Marion's lifetime could remember, always looked the same -- dark-skinned with freckles, and coiling hair strung with flowers and beads that more looked more like she'd stuck them there absently than done it on purpose. She wore layers of skirts and shawls in earthy tones even though the air wafting out of the windfall was almost stiflingly warm. The one ear visible, with her hair pushed behind it, had a chewed-up appearance like she'd at some point tried to dull the sharp point and never healed herself afterwards. She looked between them, eyes narrowing at Mishka, as the stranger, then flicking downwards to check if they had an animal with them for her to tend to. When they obviously didn't, she looked back up. "What do you want?" Coyote: Mishka wet his lips. Now that he was here, he realized, suddenly, that this healer might not even help them, might just turn them away. He had no fucking clue what to offer her. “I have no earthly idea how this works,” Mishka said, slowly. “But my husband Hansel is— hurt, maybe... dying, I’m not sure. Torn open. The bleeding’s stopped, but he’s— fucked up, and there could be infection, or— it could get... worse.” Izzy: Marion looked at him with sudden alarm at maybe dying. Stable, he had told her. She couldn't tell if he was bullshitting the Lady to get sympathy or had been bullshitting her, before, to keep her calm. "Hm," the Lady said, and slammed the door. "Ah --." Marion immediately raised a hand to knock again, having expected -- a bit more of a favorable reaction. The Lady didn't always help them, but to be told someone was dying, and -- even if she hadn't recognized Hansel's name, she surely would recognize Marion, and Marion thought that they were on decently good terms -- But before she could knock, or look to Mishka, the door opened again, just as abruptly, and the Lady stood there holding a gnarled staff and wearing a hooded cloak, making an impatient gesture at them to get out of the way. Marion stepped back hastily, and she brushed by them. "He's not at --," Marion started. "I know where he is." The Lady kept walking. Coyote: Mishka stood stock-still, looking after her with wide eyes. “Oh. I assumed... I mean, you don’t need to... barter, or... pay... or...” He hurried after her, trotting to keep up. Maybe he ought to just shut up before he changed her mind. Izzy: Marion struggled a bit to keep pace. These were Lady's woods, and all; she had no trouble. And Mishka was -- not a hell of a lot younger than Marion, technically, she reminded herself, but he essentially was. When it came to not having joints that ached in the cold, she had to assume he was better off. She kept up, though. "Normally we trade, or --." She broke off and lowered her voice, speaking sharply. "Mishka. Is he all right or not? Don't lie to me." Coyote: Ah. He wished he could help her keep up. Alas, he wasn’t Hansel, able to simply pick people up and drag them around. His throat closed up. “I, ah.” He thought, He’s been through way fucking worse than this. I’ve seen him get impaled, before. Cut open. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. He’s fine. Except that wasn’t true, exactly. There had always been a healer, before. Serena had always been around to heal the internal injuries. There could be internal bleeding. God, Mishka should’ve just left in the middle of the night, as soon as Hansel was asleep, he should’ve gone straight to Marion’s house and asked her to take him to the Lady, fucking immediately. But he hadn’t been able to tear himself from Hansel’s side. Fucking selfish. He’d kept having anxiety attacks, terrified if he left his husband for a moment someone would come and hurt Hansel again-- “I don’t know,” Mishka managed to get out. “I don’t-- I’m not a fucking healer. He was, he was bleeding out, yesterday, but we stopped it, stitched up the wounds, bandaged him up, disinfected everything. Animals bites-- they’re nasty, get infected easily, could give him a fever… He was okay when I left, I think. He was okay when I left. I’m sorry, I… fuck, Marion, I’m not lying, I just don’t know. I’m sorry.” Izzy: She eyed him. It didn't really help that she was fairly sure he was being completely honest. The truth was not any particular comfort. She wished she had told Leigh to bring Mishka to the Lady, and gone to the cabin herself. Or just sent Leigh, and she and Mishka both stayed with Hansel. She wanted to see him, just -- make sure with her own eyes that he was all right, or that he would be, at least, that he'd make it. And if he didn't want to see her, then -- she would leave. Let Mishka take care of him. She just wanted to know. "All right." She touched Mishka's arm briefly. "All right. It'll be all right -- he'll be okay. You did everything right." She took a breath and swallowed, glancing ahead. The Lady was leaving them behind, and someone needed to be there -- Mishka needed to be there. She waved him on. "I'll catch up." Coyote: Mishka hesitated, torn. “Ah. Are you certain?” He could offer to crack her to the cabin, but he wasn’t sure of the distance. And he wasn’t sure if he knew the area well enough that he could crack himself back here. He didn’t want to leave an old lady behind in the woods. But, good fucking god, he wanted to be with Hansel right fucking now immediately. Izzy: She waved a again, scowling a bit. She just needed to catch her breath, and she'd follow along as best she could. "I know the way," she insisted. "I'll be fine." Coyote: “Alright. Well.” Mishka grimaced, torn, then hurried ahead. “Don’t die,” he called back. “Hans will be quite put out.” He’d come back for her and crack her to the cabin once he’d made sure Hansel was okay, maybe. Izzy: She held up a hand and braced herself on her knees for a moment. She hoped he was ... right about that. The Lady of the Wood kept walking without looking back. Coyote: Mishka caught up as fast as he could. “Sorry,” he said, panting. “I just— do you need anything from me? Do you just— heal everyone for free? I have money. I have— a lot of money.” Izzy: "I live in a tree," she said flatly, without looking at him. "Do you think I want money?" Coyote: “Okay. But. What do you— I mean— you didn’t cure Hansel’s stepfather, fucking, Elliot, Elijah, whatever. So. Not everyone,” Mishka said. Izzy: "No. Not everyone," she confirmed. Coyote: “So— so— okay, honestly, I don’t want to press this, because I really fucking want you to heal my husband,” Mishka said. “But. Why are you going to just heal my husband, exactly? Why him and not—?” He gestured uselessly. Izzy: She looked at him and turned her staff in her hand. "What are you, a sorcerer? You don't have healing magic, do you? Some people aren't worth it." Coyote: “Oh.” Mishka tried to catch his breath and failed. His fine clothing kept catching on things. “Fair. That’s— fair, yeah.” He kept talking. Wanted to distract himself. “The villagers don’t— hate you? For what you... are, I mean. I’m sorry, it’s just— it’s been a while since I saw another elf.” Raef was the only other pureblood around. Izzy: "Oh," she said, "no. They do." Coyote: “Oh. Oh. So why are you—? I mean, don’t you have a— where’s your town? People? Group? How come you’re— out here alone?” Izzy: She sighed. "There used to be another town here, and it was mine. I was here before Shepherd Hills. I'll be here after it's gone. I'm not leaving because of them." Coyote: “Alright. Neat. Hey. Are you the sort of person who’s going to get pissed I keep asking them questions, or are you the sort of person who might enjoy the attention? Gotta be lonely in that shack with no one to relentlessly interrogate you.” Izzy: "It really isn't." Coyote: “Alright. Well. On the off-chance you’re gonna lightning bolt me if I ask too many questions, I’m only gonna ask one more question,” Mishka said. “So, funny sorry, Hans has a tendency to get possessed by an orc god sometimes, particularly during storms. Any clue what that might be about? Just a general inquiry, doubt you’d have any info.” Izzy: "Orc god. Sounds like cleric business." Coyote: “Yeah, figured,” Mishka said, and then immediately decided to break his promise about limiting questions. “Sorry, so— one more thing. Important questions. Yehuda. Hansel’s... father.” He watched her expression. “Did you know him?” She might disappear as soon as Hansel was healed, and Hans would want to know this information. Izzy: She was quiet for a beat. "Yes." Coyote: He almost asked, Why didn’t you save him? But he made himself stop. It wasn’t like she could’ve. A mob was a mob, like Marion said. “Was he... good?” Mishka asked after a long silence. Izzy: "He would have been worth healing," she said after a pause. Coyote: "Thank you. I'll... tell Hans that. I'm sorry, but-- what happened to your town that was here before?" Izzy: "Calamity." Coyote: "Right. Right. Hey-- Leigh," Mishka said, suddenly. "Last fucking question, I swear..." Izzy: She sighed. Coyote: "He used to be sick," Mishka said. "All the time. I bet they took him to you at least once to see if you could help him, if you could cure him of... whatever it was. But then suddenly he got better. Right when Hansel left, apparently." Izzy: "Apparently." Coyote: "Any idea what was wrong with him?" He watched her closely again. Izzy: "Some children simply fail to flourish. He was born early, I believe." Coyote: "Hey. What's your name, anyhow?' Izzy: "Yelizavetha." Coyote: "Yeli-- Eliza-- Yelizav-- eth... Yel..." Mishka gave up. "Neat. Well. I'm Mishka. Nice to meet-- oh, you're walking a lot faster than me, now." Mishka decided to shut up. Izzy: The Lady made quick work of the rest of the walk to the cabin. She lifted her head and sniffed the air when they came close, to where Mishka had burned away the bloody snow, and gave a quiet hm. She looked directly up into the tree Mishka had secured Sloan's body to, but didn't comment on it. Just pushed into the cabin. Hansel was on his side in the bed, holding a pillow against his chest and face -- his eyes were closed, and he didn't look conscious, but was shivering violently and pale, breathing haltingly. His fists were knotted in the pillow. Blood had leaked through the covers. The Lady crossed the room to him immediately and laid a hand on his head. Another hm. "Infection," she said shortly. She pulled the covers away from him and he reacted instinctively, shuddering and grasping for them, too weak to find purchase, not waking up. She rested a careful hand on his stomach, against the stitches, and he spasmed, his eyes opening briefly without seeing, then closing again. "Bleeding inside," she muttered, then glanced Mishka's way. "I can heal him. He'll be fine." She pressed her hand against him a little more firmly and he groaned and tried pathetically to move away. A green glow surrounded her hand and sunk into him as she hummed softly, and his tremors slowly abated, and his breathing leveled. She tapped her staff against the floor a couple of times, in time with her humming. He wasn't fully healed when she pulled her hand away, but he seemed to be resting -- she put the back of her hand against his forehead for a moment and nodded to herself, then turned, and started for the door. Coyote: Under normal circumstances, Mishka might've asked her to wait, told her Hansel might like to talk to her. Instead, he sank onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Hansel, felt his pulse. Weak, but steady. Yeah, next fucking vacation, he was dragging their half-elf with them. His body was over-heated. Mishka dragged him around the bed-- which was difficult, given his size-- but eventually, Mishka managed to strip the bloody sheets and blankets off the bed, then replace them with a fresh set. He crawled into bed with Hansel under the thick blanket again. "Hans," he whispered. "Hans, wake up." Izzy: Hansel mumbled incoherently in his sleep as Mishka moved him around. Vaguely aware he wasn't having nightmares anymore. Still had an ache deep in his gut, but it wasn't hot and thrumming, and he wasn't freezing despite it. Settled, somehow. He'd heard a hummed song that he kind of recognized, but it wasn't Mishka, wasn't a sea shanty. Couldn't seem to place it. Didn't have the energy. Mishka was there, though. Hansel heard his voice and fumbled for him blindly, trying to pull him nearer. Coyote: Mishka settled closer, wrapping himself around Hansel. He slid his arms up Hansel's bare back, feeling the bandages soaked with blood. Mishka had only been gone a short time, but it shocked him how bad Hansel had looked when he first walked in. "I have you," he murmured, "I have you, my love, we're fine, we're good. Y'mother and y'brother are coming to see you. They'll be here soon." Izzy: Hansel mumbled again, still not getting any actual words out. Something he wanted to say. Something he'd dreamed about, been scared of. Ropes and trees. He knew the one they used to hang people on, out on the edge of town, the soil rich from the unmarked graves of unwanted people. His father was there. He kept dreaming of lightning and wildfires, of storms, of boots kicking at the air -- of Mishka's hands bound to keep him from snapping his fingers and cracking away, of the scarf Hansel had made him fluttering in the storm after he'd gone still. Kept dreaming of it and couldn't stop, couldn't wake up. He curled his arms around Mishka to remind himself they were together, and they hanged it'd be together, too. He wouldn't let Mishka be alone. Wasn't letting go. I have you. I have you. He opened his eyes, a bit, confirming it was all real. Felt like he'd been healed but he didn't see Luci -- she was at the Eldath Sanctuary -- or Goro, either -- he was even further away. Hansel wished they were both here. All here. But then he didn't, too, because then they'd see him bleeding and weak and needing help, and ... He was supposed to protect them. He wasn't supposed to need help. "Got you," he muttered against Mishka's hair. His fists curled in Mishka's clothes. "Ropes 'n ... No one's gonna hurt you. Got you." Coyote: “Beloved, you are hardly in a state to protect anyone,” Mishka said. But he sighed contently and shifted a bit closer. A few more moments. Just a few more moments of listening to Hansel’s heartbeat and feeling his pulse, and then Mishka would get up and cut off the bandages, and Leigh and Marion would arrive. Izzy: Hansel grumbled wordlessly. He'd fought a bear. Killed it, too. Dragged it all the way home. He'd protect everyone -- Mishka couldn't fuckin' stop him. He was tired right now, though. He'd settle for just holding Mishka here. That was enough. That was good. Coyote: Marion seemed relieved to see Hansel okay, and so did Leigh. Marion seemed-- nervous, somehow, and she kept not looking at Hansel, and Mishka thought to ask, to see what was wrong, but held his tongue instead, knowing it wasn’t his business. She seemed satisfied Hansel was alive and safe. They left and went to tend to their farm. Mishka cut the bandages off Hansel and washed away the blood. Then he crawled under the covers with Hansel, and Hansel crushed him tight and kissed his hair, and Mishka sighed, pleased and content. They were good for now. Until the next disaster. end Title: Yelizavetha Summary: Mishka and Marion rush to get the Lady of the Woods to heal Hansel after a bear attack. Mishka and Marion bond. Category:Text Roleplay